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October | Test Drive Meme
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You've seen this before. The thought strikes suddenly, during whatever it is you were doing. Having an important conversation? Running away from home? Dying in the midst of a fierce battle? Where ever you are, one things is true: you're certain this isn't the first time you've lived through this. But upon realizing this, that's when it happens. Like someone hitting rewind on the VCR, you're back where you were ten minutes ago. And it happens again. And again. And again--Until finally, something is different. A door stands in front of you. Will you go through it? Nothing else seems to be working, so this might be your only chance.
Upon opening the door and heading inside, a strange feeling overwhelms you. It's comforting and warm, like being enveloped in a soft, heavy blanket. You hear a voice murmuring in your ear, but it's unintelligible.
And in the next moment, you've appeared in front of a mysterious stone shrine in the middle of a forest, surrounded by the unfamiliar yet worried faces of fox-like humans in red and white robes, speaking in a foreign language that doesn't sound so foreign to you anymore.
Maryouku University
There isn't much time to process what's happening before characters are transported to the nearby Maryouku University. All injuries are completely healed, and those under mental duress will have a powerful soothing spell cast on them to calm them down. Their every need is met: food is offered, and questions are answered. "You've arrived in the Western Kingdom of Nippon, on a planet called Gaia," they explain. "When you became aware of the timeloop, we... well, let us explain."
Orientation Maryouku University, Kyoto
Everyone is brought to a large auditorium, where dozens of other people looking similarly out of place are seated around them. The Kitsune Yokai from before filter on stage, as well as a number of humans and other Yokai in labcoats. And after a brief introduction, they begin to explain. What they experienced back home was a timeloop. While the loops in their home worlds are smaller and likely to resolve on their own, the fact that such a small amount of time is being repeated is what makes them so dangerous for those who become aware of it. And they've been working around the clock, checking adjacent universes for others who've become aware. While the technical explanations may go over the heads of most, that's not the reason they were all brought together like this.
And they continue to explain: their own world was trapped in a year long loop for decades, if not longer. Through the use of an ancient form of bonding magic, they bound their world to the present flow of time, allowing it to progress past the timeloop. Or at least, that's how they thought it worked. In truth, Kizuna is very powerful reality-warping magic. And thanks to the powerful bond all refugees now share with the country of Nippon, the magic surrounding them will only continue to evolve.
Until a means of resuming the flow of time back in their home world is found, they'll just have to make due with this one. But not to worry, because Nippon is fully committed to taking care of the refugees!
A Brand New Home Kyoto, Kansai
Once orientation is over, characters will be allowed to choose housing in both Kyoto and Tokyo, enabling them the means of easily living between both cities if they please. These housing options will be fully paid for by the government of Nippon, with the NRL and MRU providing a stipend for food expenses in Tokyo and Kyoto respectively.
In lieu of providing transportation, all refugees will be granted an unlimited rail pass that they can use to travel all across Nippon! As of the beginning of May, express routes connecting Tokyo and Kyoto will be running at all times of day, allowing refugees to freely travel between the Eastern and Western Kingdoms.
At the Kiyomizu Temple in Higashiyama, preparations are underway for a festival coming at the end of the month. Refugees will hear talk of the locals trying to decide on what style mask they want to create, and at the Temple itself, they'll find craft booths offering free supplies for custom mask making. The masks must reflect what a person believes to be their inner self, and there's limitless supplies provided to bring their creation to light. It seems these are going to be really important later, so don't just half-ass it, okay?
Over at the dorms in Gion, a rather provocative game has broken out amongst the residents. Following a generous gift of prized sake from one of their patrons, the Geiko have decided to throw a party with the refugees, and somehow, this devolved into a competition of strip rock-paper-scissors. With just how many accessories the Geiko wear, they clearly have the advantage! But no one is talking it very seriously, and the night is filled with laughter and silliness. Join the fun? It's one hell of a way to make new friends!
In Uji, signs of autumn have taken over, as the famously rural neighborhood becomes filled with beautiful hues of red and yellow. At the Byodoin Temple, the monks have requested that all visitors bring offerings of colorful leaves for their resident Phoenix deity, who is known to drain the color from people who provide lackluster or incorrect offerings. However, it seems the phoenix is only interested in red leaves this season, and offering any other color will render the one making the offering temporarily colorblind. At least the effect only lasts about an hour? Such a picky bird.
NRL Time Refugee Support Network
Once they've received their housing assignment, all refugees will be given small handheld devices called magi-tech comms, or magi-comms for short. They're heavier than a conventional smartphone would be, but far sturdier, and powered by the ambient magic that flows through the city. They don't need to be charged, but they won't work outside of cities at all. Upon booting it up, they'll find a message linking them to a special channel for refugees.
#nrl_time_refugee_support - online
Use the following code for your top-level if you'd like! This is how network communication will look for characters in the game until more advanced magi-tech comms become available for characters.
A Tale of Two Festivals
As the leaves of autumn begin to change, so too are the refugees encouraged to change up their routine and pay a visit to the city of Nara. Located south of Kyoto, Nara is a city where Yokai and Ayakashi live in perfect equilibrium, with many aspects of life in the city adjusted to account for the Ayakashi's eccentric behavior. Likewise, the Ayakashi here are almost never known to curse anyone, and are generous in the blessings they offer both the people and the land in which they live.
Perhaps some are put off by the idea of a city where Ayakashi are allowed to flourish after past experiences with these strange creatures. But this month is special!
Starting on October 1st, the Tsukimi Festival is held every night after sundown for the next two weeks. Long ago, the gods gifted Gaia an enchanting string of pearls that entwined the planet, lighting up the night sky. However, the greed of mortals seeking power led them to fight over the pearls. As wars waged, the pearls would be shattered in the conflict, until only one remained. Seeing the way their gift was tarnished, the gods decided that those on Gaia would only be allowed to see the pearl in all its glory for part of the month, taking it away for the other half. This became the cycles of the moon, and the shattered remains of the other pearls formed the solid ring that is always visible in the night sky.
So what makes October so special? For this month only, the full moon will be completely visible for the first full two weeks of the month, never visibly waxing nor waning. But what happens after two weeks...? Well, you'll just have to be patient for that!
One With Nature Narashi, Nara
Nara is an interesting city. Buildings are seemingly hidden away by larger-than-life trees that tower overhead, with some even built into the trees themselves, and all of them brilliant shades of red, orange, and yellow for the fall season. Lower streets and areas are lit up by special bioluminescent flowers that bloom on the lower sections of the tree's trunk. And while magic-powered lifts exist, the sheer number of elevated walkways and stairs make it a bit of a workout to explore. And of course, no matter where one looks, wildlife is around every corner -- though by and far, most of them are ayakashi. But there are no higanbana death flowers or dangerous tsutsumi-bara vines here. Instead, the refugees will has a chance to see more tranquil varieties ordinarily only found in the depths of Nippon's forests.
One of the more common creatures found in the main district of Nara, Narashi, is the Arukibake, the ghost-walker ayakashi. Utterly harmless, these little leggy ghosts can be found strutting around the city at every corner, ranging from the size of an apple to waist-height. However, they're known to be naturally attracted to people who have recently experienced bouts of depression or loneliness. The exact reason for this is unknown, but anyone seen with a small procession of these fellas marching silently behind them is certain to get more than a few concerned passer-bys offering them a warm meal, a hug, or even a shoulder to cry on if they need it. Even for the Western Kingdom, it seems the people of Nara are especially compassionate.
And then, there's the likes of the fuwakafun, the puffball ayakashi. No larger than your average cotton ball, these little guys are known to spread not pollen, but color as they move from flower to flower. And Nara, with its unique species of bioluminescent flower that blooms all year round, has no shortage of flowers even during the fall season. Should the fuwakafun land on someone's hair or clothing, it'll fade to take on the color of whatever flower the fuwakafun was resting in before. Ordinarily this effect is meant to create rare flowers as a gift for those who allow the fuwakafun to live in their garden, but with more fuwakafun than flowers, they've got to make do with what they have.
But for all that the Ayakashi in Nara are peaceful, there are still more than a few troublemakers. One in particular to look out for is the gurakurage, the glass-jelly ayakashi. Appearing in an array of beautiful colors, these ayakashi are attracted by greed and feelings of lust. It's not uncommon to see them tethered by a string in shops, where their increased activity serves as a warning to look out for shoplifters. But when encountered in the wild, these strange jellyfish will latch onto the bodies of people experiencing sexual frustration. A minor annoyance to be sure, as they can simply be peeled off, but just don't break the glass dome atop their head. Doing so will greatly anger the ayakashi, causing them to grow in size before... well. I think we all know where the prompt with the tentacle creature is going.
Dear Deer Narashi, Nara
While Nara is known for its high population of Ayakashi, the most well-known is the Saiwaika, the good-fortune deer. Growing no more than two feet high, these miniature deer can be found in parks throughout Nara, where they've become so docile and used to the presence of Yokai that they'll walk right up and cutely beg for food. Thankfully, vendors selling special crackers for the saiwaika can be found everywhere.
Being around the saiwaika has an interesting effect. Those who look upon their tiny, dainty forms will find themselves strongly compelled to be generous and kind to every living creature they meet. Originally a defense mechanism against predators, the saiwaika instead offer this power as a blessing to the people of Nara, which is said to have the lowest crime rate of any city in the Western Kingdom. Even cruel or downright evil folks will find their hearts filled with warm feelings, offering to buy their worst enemy lunch, help a little old lady cross the street, or maybe even offer some more of those tasty crackers to the deer...
All right, so there's a little bit of an ulterior motive to their blessing. But you can't deny they're very cute. However, they really do have a certain craving for these crackers. And while they've learned not to steal them off the stall tables, once the wrapping comes off, it's a free-for-all. The tiny deer have been known to swarm, nibbling at the clothes of those bearing the treats. Some even attempt to jump and steal them, with the saiwaika being well-known for its ability to leap nearly ten feet into the air. Yes, this looks as silly as you can imagine.
Perhaps its because of this that a common prank played by children in Nara is to slip a few crackers into an unsuspecting friend's pocket, causing the deer to hungrily swarm without the target knowing why. Shouldn't their blessing counteract these pranks...? Well, if the saiwaika is getting fed, is it really such a bad thing?
Behold The Pearl Narashi, Nara
Given the name of the festival, it should come as no surprise that the chief activity performed during the festival is simply observing the moon with good company and plenty of food every night. Its radiance will only grow brighter as the festival continues, the light reflecting off the ring that surrounds Gaia and causing it, too, to glow every night, occasionally releasing rainbow-colored bursts of magical energy only visible during Tsukimi.
For the best views, Sarusawa Pond in Narashi is widely considered to be the optimal location for moon-viewing parties. Food and drink stalls can be found lining the pathways that circle the pond, and with the backdrop of a five-story pagoda lit up by moonlight, it's also known as one of the most romantic spots in Nara.
But while there are plenty of places to sit and gaze up at the moon on the shore, the real celebrations occur on small boats that sit silently upon the water. Only allowed to sail at a certain hour before sundown, those hoping for a proper moon-viewing best board early. And once the boat has parked on the pond, a Mizu spell is used to still the water, causing a mirror-like image of the moon and the stars above to reflect upon its pristine surface.
But aside from being very beautiful, there are a number of superstitions associated with this practice. It's said that one should never stare at their own reflection in the water, or else they may see their reflection begin to twist and mutate into a monster. While limited to just their reflection, the effects of this spell may cause erratic or animal-like behavior when standing in the moonlight, with some becoming prone to acting on their every impulse, no matter how rash. It's not uncommon for at least one party-goer to make the mistake of staring too long, before throwing themselves in the shallow pond and thrashing about wildly. Unfortunately, the effects of this will linger until the festival ends on the 14th. Better bring an umbrella for tomorrow's Tsukimi.
OOC Notes
Welcome to Jikan's October TDM! The TDM is considered game canon, and also serves as the intro log! That said, whether you choose to carry threads over to the game or not is up to you!
• Current players are more than welcome to top-level, or take prompts from the TDM and use for their own logs! This may change in the future depending on how busy TDMs become.
• CRAU characters may start regaining their CRAU memories one month after the TDM. However, vague feelings of familiarity are allowed between previous game CR! For more on this, please read the FAQ!
• You do not need to sign-up for housing! Choose whichever style you prefer, in both Kyoto and Tokyo. Roommates can be chosen by the characters or can be random. If you want to switch housing later, your character has the option of moving at the beginning of each month.
• While you do not need to thread the mask-making prompt if you don't want to, these masks will become important for the event later in the month, so choose your designs carefully!
• The full moon will be visible in the night sky from everywhere in Nippon for the first two weeks of October. While Tsukimi celebrations can be found everywhere, the sister festival to this one is unique to the Kansai region, and will be explained in more detail in the event later in the month.
• Characters who have their reflection mutated by the pond's spell will retain a monster-like appearance when they look into a mirror or reflective surface until the festival ends on the 14th. This effect is for their reflection only.
• Similarly, whether their reflection becomes monstrous in a frightening way, or monstrous in a sexy way, is completely up to you. The change can be subtle or dramatic, and those around them will be able to see the changes!
Please leave any questions about the TDM prompts in the thread below! General game questions can be directed to the FAQ!
Apps are always open!
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no subject
But it wasn't him. Not exactly, not completely, even if he knew he was being influenced by those shadows of another life, and how entwined it had become with Mettaton's. A combination powerful enough that even the pieces he did recall were enough to keep him on this bench, wanting to know more of what this other version of himself had done. More of his companion, every detail of him that he knew had once been important to him. Everything that he'd been fond of, or had annoyed him... what sort of life had they had together?
Would they ever be able to have anything like it again? Did he even want that, to continue living with choices he hadn't made, as though they were his own....
It's silently that Emet-Selch watches, permits Mettaton to take his hand again. A movement and pressure that once more felt familiar, the lacing of fingers that accounted for their differing amounts. That was normal, that was right; this was how hands were supposed to feel together, the strangeness coming only in how right it was. And how this shouldn't have had to be something to take particular note of, that it should've been a simple pleasure, a sign of affection to perform without needing to think about it.
Mettaton's tease has his eyes flit back to his face again, for a demonstrably unimpressed look- but this too was a normal part of their dynamic, wasn't it?
So beyond an expression of displeasure he permits it, especially when it was clear that Mettaton was about to continue with something more earnest.
It wasn't... consolation. Neither in finding out that all of this had existed, and that all they could do was wait and see how much of it returned. In comparison to their first meeting, they were exponentially more informed, it was true; from a feeling neither of them could place, came the recollection of another world where their lives had intersected. They had been lovers, friends, spouses... he'd been bitten, electrocuted, scarred. There had been memories both good and ill, but in the end they'd persisted, all the way until now.
Where they'd forgotten. (That too, was a defense in the end; if it had been another version of himself to do all these things, then he wasn't the one responsible for forgetting anything. It wasn't a very good defense.)]
So I've both gained and lost a husband in a day. [There was something more than a little melancholy in that thought. But it was true; they weren't anything like that to each other now.] Beginning my stay here with a divorce isn't exactly what I expected.
[No rings, there was nothing at all concrete to tie them, nothing but poorly-remembered events to keep them together; unconsciously, his grip on Mettaton's hand tightens.]
There's little else for it, is there? To wait, one day after another.
no subject
He can't quite put a finger on it... but he realizes quickly (and better sooner than later) that he'd been trying to reassure Emet-Selch with the lack of commitment here, with the fact that he didn't have his love. And that was true, in its way: they weren't an item here. They weren't married. And somehow, he'd wielded this like a benefit, even though it... kind of hurt to know. His brow knits, understanding that he'd been pardoning Emet-Selch from the arrangement. (And what did he want? Did he want that kind of commitment?
In truth... to be so tied to someone daunted him. Did that Mettaton in Aefenglom ever feel daunted, especially when Emet-Selch felt like such a deep, intense fellow? Mettaton knew he was similarly intense, but to be met instead of overwhelming Emet-Selch... He would've expected to find himself with a partner he could stun, not one who would kiss him back, and kiss him harder, so to speak.)
With an airy exhalation, Mettaton closes his eye. His left hand is laced with Emet-Selch's right, but he distinctly remembers wearing a well-fitting band around his ring finger there... There was a lot of bits and pieces to remember about their relationship, and how fond it made him feel, warmed down to his core. The Mettaton who lived in Aefenglom... he felt he'd be devastated to find out that they were like this.
But he also knew he'd be hopeful that they'd continue in their way, however they should bloom together. He reassures himself with this, and with his own desire to learn who Emet-Selch is to him, to understand the Ascian's importance for himself. So he squeezes his hand back at that unconscious grip, recognizing Emet-Selch's loss as his own.]
Yes. We had something remarkable, I think... But we can discover what that is, day after day. As ourselves, here and now, in Nippon.
[...Still, there's a little bit of humor to be found in the suddenness of divorce. Mettaton smiles, snorting softly.]
I can't believe I've been divorced before I've ever been married. Ha-ha. [His voice is low and soft, tender despite the joke of it. The idol's thumb runs over Emet-Selch's thumb, a lingering love for him evident in his gaze. Even if he didn't know this man, he could still feel the haunts of those feelings for him... predetermined or not, they still struck him.] But... who knows?
[His smile broadens, his eyelid curtaining heavily as he leans even closer.]
I can't deny that I'm excited to learn more. About our history... and about you. I've never had someone transfix me like you do.
[...They must have danced together. Mettaton's sure of it! But any recollection of it is hazy at best, which is a massive disappointment. Even when he closes his eye, he can only feel the inklings of their sway, the electricity of their tempo...
...Which causes him to spark with that inoffensive electricity again, though this time, it makes complete contact with Emet-Selch, from Mettaton's chest to Emet-Selch's. All from the power of thought, their chemistry crackling to life right before their eyes and lighting their countenances. Mettaton's eye flies open again in surprise, his lips parting.]
no subject
But it didn't reassure, to no longer be crushed by it, to no longer be beholden to... to everything that they'd had. Whatever promises they'd made to each other, whatever expectations they'd possessed, demands they'd placed, all of that was no longer with them; there was no tie left but whatever they created with each other now. Which, when he considered the feelings that festered without explanation- didn't leave him feeling at all optimistic. In comparison to that, what was left felt so pitiful, uncomfortable, and wrong. (And how miserable would his other self be, to realize what they'd become?)
There was no other truth than this, though. All they had together were fragile, new bonds, and an awareness of all that they no longer were.
...But it was nice to hold Mettaton's hand all the same, in the meantime (even if his right hand dully ached, though he took it to be a result of the belated understanding of his grip, which he relaxes to something simply firm). It was warm, in a way that had nothing to do with temperature. So many of those memories were warm, even if he could no longer make out the details of them.
That they'd had something remarkable has his eyes close for a moment, as if to steady himself. Day by day; he tries to focus on that part instead. There was nothing to do but endure it.
The faintest humor to be found in divorce only gets a slow headshake from him, though he squeezes back at Mettaton's hand to show a lack of offense, even if it did ache. Like they'd lost a relationship they hadn't even realized was there until this evening, there were nothing but raw edges left behind.
Sensing Mettaton leaning closer has his eyes open again- in time to see the robot's closed eye, something that still carried a suggestion of heat, something sultry, that his own body knew it was meant to respond to. Watching him, he couldn't deny that he was any less transfixed, and it was difficult again to keep from reaching out to him, even when nothing felt right. About to reply, all thought is interrupted as lightning flares and crackles.
This time, though he tenses up, he doesn't recoil, only watching as that spark of illusory electricity flickers and licks between them, a dance of light to reflect Mettaton's clear interest. That stated excitement brought to a kind of life. For a few instants, the Ascian's fingers dig in harder, to keep himself from pulling back, but though he doesn't relax, he's able to take in better that it didn't hurt, that it wasn't doing anything wrong....
Just as Mettaton wasn't doing anything wrong by feeling this way. The light had cast strange shadows over them both, but there was no harm in it. Exhaling a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, his eyes briefly flit back to the robot's face.]
--Every time you're excited, do you think you'll start doing that?
[Shifting towards him again, Emet-Selch reaches out with his left hand, with fingers hesitant for reasons other than a fear of being shocked, all the way to brush over where that lightning had originated from the robot's chest. His fingers smooth over unblemished metal; of course there was no damage. And he could feel no harm in his own body, the only ache in his chest having nothing to do with electricity.]
I suppose I'll just have to get used to it.
no subject
Mettaton hadn't dedicated terribly much focus to it. Someone who fawned over him, that much was for sure. (Someone who would always fawn over him.)
Looking at Emet-Selch in the light of being a romantic prospect is a strange one, surreal still, even while these memories cropped up one by one. There was a version of himself, he supposes, who saw this man as someone to date and marry the hell out of... He spares a moment to inspecting his face, even while lightning crackles and sweeps over their chests. Later, he could mourn the missing memories and wonder what he would've thought of himself. For now, he was thinking of what he thought of him now, wondering if he was up to snuff.
Of course, even that's interrupted by the Kizuna between them, making known the connection they have and the chemistry they share. At least, from Mettaton's end of things, as he dreams of dancing with Emet-Selch. A passionate thought like that alone is enough to make sparks fly, quite literally. It's only fortunate that Emet-Selch doesn't recoil this time.
And though he doesn't recoil, Mettaton certainly displays his own shock and hangs on that note. This is not at all an intentional thing...
Shock persists as he watches Emet-Selch reach for his chest, fingers outstretched as they press over hot pink metal. He feels his digits and anticipates the full of his palm, but only his fingertips graze his chest. He very nearly swallows, nearly bristles with the expectation of sensation. This isn't the first time he's been touched before, not by a long shot... but for some reason, Emet-Selch's touch felt so sharp, so... electric.
Wound up, his body rattles slightly with a shudder as he pushes hot air past his lips. ...He can't believe such a simple touch could affect him so much. It had far more to do with the man exacting said touch, but he can't disguise the way he looks at him, gaze soft and enamored.
Of course, when he finally processes what Emet-Selch's said to him, he splits into a smile.]
That you will, darling. You won't be able to get rid of me, after all! I'll shock you plenty.
["Shock" him. And after that bout of surprise, he leans into Emet-Selch's touch, gripping onto his hand with a smile that reaches his eye. His chest pushes into Emet-Selch's hand, and Mettaton relishes the sensation of these specific fingers upon his chassis, the way it felt... totally new, totally wanted. (And of course, familiar.) No matter how dismal the circumstance in that they forgot at all, it felt... special to remember these memories with someone.
Scooting close enough to touch hips, side-by side, still slightly facing Emet-Selch, Mettaton glances away, then back to Emet-Selch.]
It remains to be seen if I'll ever get a handle on this strange... magic, I suppose. You'll be better off getting used to it. Ahaha...
no subject
But here they were, a partner delivered to them that they hadn't ordered. And there they had been in the past, having discovered the pleasure and solace to be found in deep companionship. Though they weren't yet committed here, and it would be hard to claim anything otherwise, it would also be hard to claim that they weren't having an effect, even if it was due to what they couldn't remember. Somehow, they had possessed an intensity that hadn't flared out, that could affect them this far even without knowing how they'd gotten there.
Was this robot really what he'd chosen in a lover? Already, he couldn't recall anyone that he'd been so reactive to, even if some of that was a curiosity as to what he'd already discovered about him at another time. And when he looked into the other man's eye, as shock passed into something soft, it was hard to not soften as well, even as it still presented with an edge of pain. They were both well affected it seemed clear to say, between looks and exhalations, with the way they... couldn't help but lean closer together. Even though he remembered his own wariness, his own warnings to himself, it felt even lonelier to be apart after all.
Mettaton leans into his touch, and Emet-Selch presses more firmly, letting his palm rest against the robot's chestplate. With their hips brushed against one another, he has to turn more towards him to do so, but that was fine. It didn't surprise him that it didn't feel at all like touching something inorganic, even though he technically was... but with the way Mettaton reacted to it (and the way his own pulse quickened just to touch him, and to feel the robot's response), there was especially no possibility for mistaking him as an object.
To anyone passing by, it wouldn't be an unreasonable assumption to make that there was some sort of romantic involvement going on between the benched pair. The closeness of their bodies, the placement of hands on each other... it'd be hard to imagine anything else taking place. The number of arukibake might still be alarming, but the degree of company going on would surely fix things.]
Leaving me to adjust to it, because you can't be bothered to improve yourself... I wonder how I ever tolerated it.
[But he also shows no sign of wanting to pull away this time, thumb rubbing over brightly colored metal. Even if the chance of electricity was still strange, he was becoming more willing to accept it. A little at a time... even if it took patience, even if it was invasive to be so known (and yet not known at all), this was how it had to be.]
Well, if this is the worst you can do, I might have been giving you too much credit.
no subject
And while Mettaton had never quite fancied himself finding so committed a lover, to find that he did and that it was a personality like Emet-Selch... It worked. It clicked, and he felt confident that he wasn't being mislead by the preexisting relationship they'd had. Though he still knew very little about Emet-Selch, his personality was such a stark contrast that it felt impossible to be anything but more of himself, enhanced by the dynamic he shared. And yet...
How similar he felt to himself. It was remarkable, how a man could feel so different yet similar, without even knowing him. He didn't know how or why, but it was a hunch, of sorts.
He nods with a slight chuckle, as lightning crawls over his mechanical body like a light show, drawn to the firmer touch of Emet-Selch's fingers against his chest. It felt right for Emet-Selch's hand to give to his insistent push, for his palm to press over his chest because Mettaton wanted it. The haunts of being accustomed to Emet-Selch yielding to him persists, and naturally, Emet-Selch's ever the one to adjust.
(Though this is a minor inconvenience, Mettaton thinks, this Kizuna-based lightning. So he snorts.)]
And would you really have me "improve" the enticement I feel, Hades-darling? [He quirks his brow.] You really want to shoot me down. How mean.
[Intuitively, that's why he's sparking like this, he's sure. And just as intuitive, he felt sure that Emet-Selch was able to do more than tolerate it.
Though he's aware suddenly that Emet-Selch is not the sort to have patience to care for much if he didn't have to. For himself, though, he'd been given a lot of Emet-Selch's patience and his heart in their life together. Still, he'd seen the result of the moments where he grew bored, impatient, or otherwise wanted to leave: the Ascian could simply... disappear. How convenient for him, he thought.
Emet-Selch's thumb runs over his chest, and Mettaton's ease increases, offering himself to be touched. It felt right to be caressed like this, and the sensation of it was pleasant, to be pet by someone who wasn't himself. He hums low, continuing to quirk his brow.]
And what would worse look like to you? A real shock? I'm not damaged, darling. And I'm not interested in attacking you, either. How barbaric do you think I am?
[He mirrors Emet-Selch's stroke over his chest by using his thumb against his hand, wandering the unfamiliar-yet-familiar structure and softness of the smaller man's hand with fingers void of nails or claws.]
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It still frustrated to not know what he was basing these impressions on, how much he'd picked up from their limited interactions on this world, and how much was filling in the gaps with a poorly-recalled history. But it wasn't inexplicable that they could have been close, that much at least he felt sure of.
His hand gave as it should (as it had, how many times before?) to metal and pressure, an encouragement to keep his touch firm. And to keep it there at all, even if this was distinctly an intimate sort of contact. Even if Mettaton's body was robotic, and he was touching a metal chestplate, this was still his body, and a touch that he doubted would've been permitted from anyone (and that he wouldn't have been so inclined to give to just anyone either).
But they were both inclined towards it, attracted to... each other, when it came down to it.
The Ascian still snorts lightly, looking between the hand he has on him to his face.]
I'll shoot you down as much as I care to. I don't expect it to stop you for long.
[In another life, the words might've been fond, even in their complaint; there's barely an echo of it now, but he doesn't seem truly bothered by the prospect either.
Nor inclined to stop touching him, to stop wanting to be in contact with him, and he tried to not think too closely about it, lest the sense of wrongness outweigh the comfort of it.]
As for how barbaric I find you... all the instances of teeth in my throat that I recall say something about your potential for savagery.
[Neverminding that the impression he had of those times included not only his tolerance, but his pleasure, his encouragement of that treatment. But that didn't make it any less barbaric, even as he remained somewhat puzzled as to why he'd permitted it at all. Why would he take to that, and especially on a body he couldn't heal or shed easily if things got out of hand?
Speaking of hands... Emet-Selch wasn't distracted by, but conscious of Mettaton's handling of his own, and the familiarity of it. Even if he didn't want to think about how many times they might've done something just like this, sitting close somewhere and observing the world and each other, holding hands they were inclined to play with. But just in itself... it was pleasant, a not at all impersonal investigation of him, by fingers that... he wasn't at all sure what Mettaton's were made of, actually. Not bone, obviously, and the lack of claws (even tidily filed away ones) struck him as unusual.
Comments on savagery aside, Emet-Selch shows no concern over being this close to the robot, even as false lighting flickered over him (Had his memories been intact, how much would he have enjoyed the light show...? This visual demonstration of Mettaton's interest in him. He suspected he would've loved it- or at least been amused by it.). It was a bit eerie still, but what wasn't, when it came to their situation?]
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And he does what he wants. He hums and nods shortly, agreeing with Emet-Selch's assessment of his behavior. No, it wouldn't stop him for even a moment to be shot down by Emet-Selch.
The feeling of his fingers felt like a welcome, exciting pressure upon his chestplate where he could barely remember ever feeling such things before. He knew he'd enjoyed touches far more firm and far more intimate than these before with Emet-Selch, but while he struggled to recall their precise texture and pressure, this felt splendid. He sighs through his nose, letting his eye flutter closed in his enjoyment of the intimacy of touch while they explored each other in this abstract sort of way, measuring the ways they could simply be together.
That's how it felt to Mettaton, a touch that pushes deeper into him than meets the eye. Emet-Selch's body may give way to metal, but it felt his touch penetrated his metal chassis deeper than that.
And even still, his smile remains. He thinks of the taste of blood on his lips, realizing with more clarity that despite that early time he felt fear at the taste of it, overindulging on the essence of his Bonded... lots of his recollection of its flavor was positive. Pleasurable. Enjoyment.
It was something of an oddity, this. He recalls rushes of soporific delight, pacifying him at the spill of his lifeblood that often flooded over his lip, painting lines of scarlet over white silicone to drip from his chin. He finds himself idly running his tongue over the backs of his teeth, realizing that even his teeth felt odd... Yet perfectly suited to bite Emet-Selch as they are, sharp canines plenty enough to sink into human flesh.
(Yet with rabbit ears at the ready, wouldn't he also sport long incisors?? God, he hoped not. But he felt more convinced that was the case as time went on.)
So really, all Mettaton can do is snort. He knows what Emet-Selch refers to.]
You were dealing with a Monster. Rabbit-featured or otherwise. And, hmm. Your blood tasted good. I think I was rather refined about it... And choosy about my source.
[He remembers feeling Emet-Selch was the most delicious of them all... Nobody else could compare. (It should have been more shocking that he'd ever tasted anyone else's blood? What was he doing in Aefenglom??) Never mind that he could hardly recall the taste of anything else save for blood, which was weird to recall in itself. He couldn't even figure out how to describe the specific taste of blood versus ice cream, unable to pinpoint what a flavor was like as he is right now. Inexperienced and quite the novice when it came to taste-testing, really. All in all, he was drawn to Emet-Selch specifically. He was the finest of wines, the most luxury of indulgences. Far from barbaric, to be so choosy.
Eye still closed, he drinks in the feeling of both of Emet-Selch's hands, unaware of what was so missing on his own fingertips. Metal cloaked in a silicone glove, his hands were readily removable as they are, as though each were just a glove to put on and take off. He couldn't say the same in Aefenglom, though he wouldn't be able to recall why. He's far more interested in how familiar it feels to sit like this, out in the city with this particular man as his company. His smile is serene, his eye closed, his attention on the ambiance that surrounds him—but most of all, Emet-Selch's voice.]
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And even now... if he'd been truly bothered or annoyed or dismissive of Mettaton's confidence, he would've left him here on this bench some time ago, teleported elsewhere to find peace. Even when he'd been offended, irritated at his forwardness, the robot's teasing demand for a kiss- though Emet-Selch had pulled away, he hadn't left. And... already, he was back to holding hands with him, while trying to appreciate what he could of the evening they did have together. The quiet of it, underneath the gentle glow of the trees, overlooking a city new to them. The gathered ayakashi seemed to be settling in for the long haul, content to cozy up together in the grasses, or amongst branches overhead. Patience was the order of the day.
As was a continued mild bewilderment as he dwelled on some of their old habits. He still didn't really understand himself, both why he'd been so permissive of the puca not only biting him but drinking his blood, and why the robotic hare had even wanted to. But that they'd both deeply enjoyed the experience remained clear, even if neither of them knew exactly the why. And even now, it didn't feel... alarming, or repulsive, to know that he'd had a lover who'd so enjoyed tasting him like that.
And Mettaton's comment draws a more pleased-sounding hum, something that veers towards the smug, his voice intimate and low.]
So choosy you had to taste the field. Well, so long as you made the right choice in the end.
[So it was fine to have wanted his blood, because Mettaton agreed that it was the best. Of course.]
I'll have to trust my other self's judgement, bonding with a monstrous rabbit with a sanguine disposition. Not that you were always biting me....
[Fingers slowing to a stop on Mettaton's chest, he withdraws them after a moment more, pulling his arm back. Not because anything was wrong (any more than it already was), and instead of explaining, scoots that bit nearer. Glancing briefly, cautiously towards Mettaton's face, he leans in to nestle against the side of his body, to rest the side of his head against his neck and shoulder, before closing his own eyes.
Though he tries to find the words to explain, he knew it would amount to something defensive, and he didn't want to be. So Emet-Selch stays quiet, just wanting to remain against his once-lover for a time.]
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[Never mind that Mettaton lacks taste in the most literal of senses. What he did know was that when he could taste, Emet-Selch's blood was charged with delicious magic, far more than that of any Witch or human he'd sampled before. He can't recall any times where he'd tried anybody else on... but instinctively, he knew that he had. (Perhaps these instinctive memories were the Monster in him, the Puca that yet remains, recalling things in impressions rather than actual memory.
(Ultimately, he doesn't feel too alarmed by any of this.))
But it was true enough that he wasn't always with his teeth slipping through tender human skin. He was a hare with a sanguine disposition in senses more than just the sweet sort, inclined toward drawing his lover's blood as well in displays if violent wrath and affection both.
Both of them know it was a strange habit for Witch and Puca to engage in so ardently. So amorously. But they didn't inspect it too hard, accepting it with as much casualness as it felt they treated it with in Aefenglom. Mettaton could casually greet Emet-Selch by dipping down to his neck and kissing him, sucking bruises into skin or lightly nicking his flesh, letting blood trickle onto his tongue in a gesture too intimate to explain in words.
And they both loved it. Mettaton feels a strange rush at recalling how easily he could provoke Emet-Selch into stiffness against his thigh, all by working on his throat... So of course they enjoyed it.
As much as Mettaton enjoyed Emet-Selch's voice running low, a deep thrum that reaches his chest. He sighs again.
Before he can respond, Emet-Selch stops slowly and withdraws. Mettaton doesn't jerk to stop him, though he wonders what's wrong, only to placate himself with another intuitive feeling that things were feeling particularly right, more than they had been. Mettaton's easygoing, relaxed; Emet-Selch glances at his face, and Mettaton remains gentle, calm.
The Ascian nestles against his hard metal pauldron and against his neck. Mettaton receives him, closing distance some more, forming their bodies together. Their hands remain twined, figures huddled close, in an imitation of something it felt they've done before.
Quietly, Mettaton accepts him. With the same sort of longing, he rests his cheek upon the top of Emet-Selch's head, nestled in chestnut hair.
Most of the time, no. Mettaton wasn't biting him, but regarding him with other acts of affection. And Emet-Selch would meet him in ways he increasingly learned how to do with greater and greater comfort.
Watching the Arukibake and taking in their numbers, Mettaton wonders if Emet-Selch's loneliness had been eased in Aefenglom. That none of the small, ghostly ayakashi were leaving suggests to him that his loneliness isn't eased by his presence... but who knew? Maybe he missed one's departure. But it was alright. He could simply join Emet-Selch's entourage of leggy ghosts, he thinks with a smile.
But at least they've accomplished something. Some things, in fact. Mettaton's voice is soft, audible only for someone close to his throat.]
I've noticed nobody's come to bother you. Except for me.
[There's that, at least.]
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But even more often, Mettaton just spent time at his throat. Kissing him, pressing his face there... they'd both occupied that spot frequently on each other.
Just as he was drawn towards doing now, letting out a quiet breath at being accepted there, that they could still do this. It wasn't much, in comparison to what they'd once had- an awareness that kept his loneliness stable and deep- but it was something. It was more than a start, as he thought on how they'd begun their conversation, or on how these past weeks had gone, with so little beyond feelings emerging through the mist.
Mettaton's voice is soft, something that wouldn't escape beyond their bench, beyond his ears, and Emet-Selch remembered too how much he had enjoyed listening to him... especially in tones like these, pitched only for him.
The Ascian could've replied with something sarcastic. Something about trading one trouble for another, or whether the peace he'd found with the robot was worse than the hassle of intervention. Instead he's quiet for a time, thinking on the way Mettaton's face felt resting in his hair. The way his own face and body felt, nestled close against the robot's. How warm he was, and strangely... comfortable. And not only because he'd done it all before, but even in the here and now, it was comfortable to rest against silicone, to lean into metal, his own body the one made to meld.
Even if this meeting brought more tumult than he could have expected, an upheaval that he knew he'd be spending a great deal of time lingering on, it would be worth it in the end, wouldn't it?]
Except for you.
[Emet-Selch agrees finally, with a small squeeze of Mettaton's hand, and nudge against his neck.]
So keep bothering me for a while longer then, won't you?
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And he feels so confident that if he ever lost that feeling, it would have certainly left an impression that lasted lifetimes. (So, what happened to them?)
He can't bear to think about it right now. Emet-Selch squeezes his hand, and he squeezes back, opening his eye and gazing into the little beady eyes of the Arukibake watching them. There's a touch of melancholy that works itself into his smile, pitying... not just Emet-Selch, but himself. They were truly star-crossed, weren't they? It felt too good and too terrible to be true, their romance fated to be lost. Just beholding the crowd of ayakashi reminds him how lonely this man is, and how lonely he seems fated to be.
But there was a time and place where he was with Mettaton's company. And here, too, he was with him. This was... another chance, perhaps. Another opportunity given to them to be together. (Was the continuity of their worlds thrown into chaos because of their adamant stay in Aefenglom, perhaps? Mettaton's cocky enough to think he's important enough to throw time itself off-kilter, anyway.) Right now, they were here together. Unmarried, and back closer to square one... but not entirely there. They remembered enough to know that they were inexorably drawn, and still attracted to one another. That attraction grew rapidly.
Emet-Selch's voice is so soft, and it felt fragile. The man himself felt fragile, in his way. Perhaps it was the lack of bite, the drop in his defenses that settles him against the black silicone of his throat, the two of them nestled into each other. But comfort could feel fragile, especially when it was so rare to attain.
Mettaton turns his head to press his lips upon Emet-Selch's scalp. He imagines what he might smell like, coming up with colors instead of actual scents. Red; a bit of blue, both there to combine into something rich, but soft. He searches his memory for a smell, but he can't wrap his mind around it.]
I can spare some time for you, darling.
[... He could spare a lot of time for Emet-Selch, he thought. He could spend the whole evening with him, the whole night... How many hours did he spend with his Bondmate in Aefenglom? How many days, years? Both in the long-term, and as a collective? He hadn't taken himself to be someone so inclined to keep company so intimate and so dear, but... to consider that he had it felt good. He felt safer than he thought he ever would or could, in this memory of his marriage.
It was no small wonder that they could spend this evening feeling comfortable like this, settled in each other's company. Mettaton had readily flipped on his ability to heat up externally, giving Emet-Selch someone warm to lean against, as he reaches up and around to settle his free hand against the back of Emet-Selch's neck.]
I couldn't say no to you.
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Something that, now that it was gone, he wondered might be some sad mercy. It had been precious to him, just as this man had been... that much he was sure of. Something that he wondered might have broken him to have lost, he felt that dedicated to it. But with his sight intact on this star, Emet-Selch wondered what it would have looked like, for his massy soul to have some strange connection to another, to something so small and bright.
He could feel lips soft against his scalp, in a touch that was familiar too. The times they must have lingered together just like this... had been numerous, he thought, with Mettaton naturally able to kiss the top of his head this way, in a gesture he knew to be affectionate. There had been no end to those gestures when they had been together, so inclined towards touch, towards expressions like these when words failed them, or were insufficient. Despite being so active and busy, as he assumed Mettaton to be in any world, he would still spare time to remain quiet with him like this.
They had been together a great deal. It surprised him a little, to consider that he'd tolerated someone else's continued company for so long at a time. But even on those times when Mettaton annoyed him, he felt... even then, his presence had been a comfort to him. Something he'd never been able to dislike. He'd always wanted him around.
And he relaxes a little more when Mettaton gives his willingness to remain, briefly turning his head to press a kiss to black silicone, in something he knows too that he'd done before.
Mettaton's reply, it deepens that sense of melancholy and fondness both, as he returns to resting against the robot's warm neck with his eyes closed.]
I think you've said something like that to me before.
[How much of what they did was an echo, he wondered. But with Mettaton's hand comfortably against his neck, he was inclined to stay just like this, even if it did call to mind everything they'd unwillingly lost. But it wasn't everything; even if they had to fumble for it in the dark, they still had some hold on each other. Even if it was a grasp they were still finding, he didn't think either of them were inclined to give up on it.]
Thank you.
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It brings a smile to his face anyway, even if there's a touch of melancholy there, missing that weight, that pressure. Yes... he felt near certain that it was weight that Emet-Selch brought him, heaviness that he could still hardly fathom. Maybe, in time, he would tempt those memories to return again.
It felt nostalgic in a lot of ways to remain at peace like this, sitting quietly in another person's company. Intimate company, at that. He still reels from the idea that he'd made himself so vulnerable to Emet-Selch, but he also trusts himself and his instinct. He did trust him entirely, even if he'd threatened him with information once before in this world. (That was a misunderstanding, he decides. Because Emet-Selch wouldn't do that to him.)
Emet-Selch kisses him. They weren't married, and they weren't even necessarily together on this star (another word he remembers Emet-Selch using to refer to worlds like these), but the motions remained in their bodies, even when they felt difficult to conjure. But this was a sign of it, as Mettaton closes his eye and basks in the sensation of human lips on his throat, with a temperature that he pretended was warmth, trying to imagine what that feels like.
They did a lot of things that felt familiar, it seemed, from kisses to the echoes of words. Even if they forgot, some part of them remembered, and continued to remember more. To that, he has to hum, interested.
Mettaton's voice remains soft. (He nearly imagines the specific way tall rabbit ears would lean comfortably back, a sort of tugging sensation that made his head feel weirdly weightless... How odd.) He settles back, keeping his fingers against the back of Emet-Selch's neck, their fingers twined, their faces close.]
Mmm. My pleasure.
[Just as much as he knew it was Emet-Selch's. This meant a lot to them both, both in the other world they met, and this one where they remembered. That they were both committed to catching up with memories lost spoke volumes about that.]